


Remember Me, Love, When I am Reborn

by princeofnaboo



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralts very bad no good day, M/M, Secrets, Siren Jaskier | Dandelion, Sirens, itll get shippy i swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24548212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princeofnaboo/pseuds/princeofnaboo
Summary: “You don’t have to come with me Jaskier.” Geralt says, staring into the bard’s big blue eyes. Jaskier rolls his eyes, moving to brush past the tall witcher.“Well of course I do Geralt, how am I supposed to write songs about battles I don't witness. Obviously not from you telling me. The most I ever get is ‘There was a griffin. I killed it.’ Honestly Geralt how do you expect me to write anything good from that? I need details, witcher, and God’s know you're not going to give them to me.” The bard says, as Geralt begins following him down the street. They make their way back to the inn, Geralt grabbing his weapons and a few potions, before making their way down to the beach and heading in the direction of the coves the fisherman had mentioned.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 13
Kudos: 48





	1. I couldn't utter my love when it counted

**Author's Note:**

> im too deep in this fandom please send help
> 
> major shout out to Miracle_Novelist for forcing me to write against my will with a knife to my throat. Also for the beta work she's done for this fic lmao
> 
> first chapters not very shippy but i promise it'll get there

Geralt knew two things about Jaskier. Well, he knew a lot about Jaskier after having spent the last however many years traipsing across the continent with the man, but there were two things that stood out as important. 

One, was that the man, however obnoxious and over the top he may be, could hush an audience with a single note. His voice made people stop and listen, made them watch the small brunette dance about whatever inn or tavern they happened to be in with rapt attention. Geralt, though he would never admit it, was just as drawn in by the bard’s voice as the villagers he enthralled wherever they went. The bard sang with such energy and emotion, his melodious voice weaving throughout the room, making his audience feel whatever the man wanted them to feel. His rowdy drinking songs could make a room explode with energy and merriment just as easily as his ballads could make even the strongest men shed a tear. The bard’s musical prowess could not be disputed, and that was a fact.

Second, and possibly more important than the first, was that since the moment Jaskier had approached him all those years ago, Geralt couldn’t help but feel that there was something ever so slightly off about the man. It wasn’t anything overtly obvious, in fact Geralt almost hadn’t noticed it. It was small things. His eyes were a little too blue, his teeth a little too sharp. He moved at times with inhuman grace, drank a bit more ale than a man his size should be able to. Geralt had eventually chalked it up to some kind of magical ancestry. An elf or fae somewhere back in the bard’s family line. Geralt had never bothered to be too concerned with it, hadn’t thought it would ever matter.

That thought had not crossed Geralt’s mind in a very long time. The oddities surrounding Jaskier had become a part of everyday life for him, had faded to the back of his head to be forgotten. They traveled together and ate together and slept under the stars together, and never once did anything strange happen. Jaskier was just another human, although a loud and reckless one with a knack for getting himself into danger. All was as it should be.

They had just made their way into a small harbor town on the northern coast, had paid for a room in the local inn and made their way to the tavern to spend some of their hard earned coin on a hot meal and a few pints of ale.

Geralt had gotten a few stares and angry looks on the way into town, but he had also gotten thankful smiles and curious eyes. Geralt would never tell Jaskier; for fear of it being permanently hung over his head, but the change in people’s disposition towards him due to the bard’s constant songs of praise wasn’t necessarily the worst thing he’d ever had happen to him. In fact it was somewhat enjoyable. He hadn’t been chased out of a town in a few years, hadn’t had food thrown at him upon entering a tavern. Although the annoyance that came with suddenly having women and children approach him to thank him and ask him far too many questions wasn’t exactly ideal, Geralt was thankful to the bard for the work he’d done in changing the witcher’s reputation.

The pair had just settled into a table near the back of the tavern with their mugs of ale and meals, when a skinny old man with a long white beard had approached them, wringing his hat between his knobby hands. He looked between the two of them nervously, his gaze eventually settling on Geralt. He could smell the man’s fear in the air, the scent heavy and uncomfortable. Geralt did his best to arrange his face into a more neutral expression, looking at the man and giving him a grunt and a nod.

“I’ve heard you witchers take coin to kill monsters,” the old man said, reaching into the pocket of his weathered breeches and retrieving a small satchel, which he placed on the table in front of Geralt with a metallic clinking of coins. “Me and the other fishermen, we be needing some monsters killed. We’re willing to pay more if that’s not enough.” When he was done speaking the old man went back to fiddling with his hat, avoiding eye contact with the witcher. Geralt hummed before reaching out to grab the pouch.

“This will be enough. What will I be killing, exactly.” Geralt says, moving to stand. Beside him, Jaskier splutters, waving his hands about dramatically.

“Excuse me? Geralt? You don’t mean to do it right now, do you?” Jaskier whines, though he stands and moves to follow the taller man. “What happened to that bath you wanted so much?” Geralt grunts, ignoring the bard and turning to the old man.

“What kind?” He asks, and the man wrenches his eyes away from Jaskier to look up at the witcher, now standing at his full height in front of him.

“Uh, a group of siren’s sir. They've been terrorizing ships fishing by the coves, tearing up nets and dragging sailors under. It’s bad for business, not to mention the loss of my brothers.” The old man looks scared, yet angry at the loss of his fellow fishermen, and Geralt gives him a nod. He brushes past the man, making his way to the door. He hears Jaskier muttering angrily as he follows behind, and when they make it out to the street he turns to stare the smaller man down. Jaskier stares up at him haughtily, putting his hands on his hips and sticking out his chin.

“You don’t have to come with me Jaskier.” Geralt says, staring into the bard’s big blue eyes. Jaskier rolls his eyes, moving to brush past the tall witcher.

“Well of course I do Geralt, how am I supposed to write songs about battles I don't witness. Obviously not from you telling me. The most I ever get is ‘There was a griffin. I killed it.’ Honestly Geralt how do you expect me to write anything good from that? I need details, witcher, and God’s know you're not going to give them to me.” The bard says, as Geralt begins following him down the street. They make their way back to the inn, Geralt grabbing his weapons and a few potions, before making their way down to the beach and heading in the direction of the coves the fisherman had mentioned.

Geralt didn’t notice it, at first. He trudged along the sand, formulating the best plan of attack. Eventually the silence caught up to him though, and he turned to look at the bard trailing along a few feet behind him. Jaskier was alternating staring down at his feet and staring out into the ocean with a look Geralt couldn’t quite decipher. When he noticed Geralt staring back at him, Jaskier gave the witcher a bright smile, though the tenseness in his shoulders betrayed him.

“Enjoying the view, witcher?” Jaskier drawled, raising a single eyebrow to accompany his teasing smirk. Geralt stared at him, giving a small hum before turning away. It was clear the bard was behaving strangely, but Geralt was having a hard time discerning why. He didn’t seem scared, and the witcher couldn’t pick up any scents of fear on the man. Maybe the bard was in a mood from being denied his bath and warm bed. That would make sense, Geralt decided. He knew how much the prissy man detested camping out in the woods, with only a small fire and bedroll as any means of comfort. 

“This will be a fairly quick hunt.” Geralt says, in an attempt to placate the man.

“Hopefully.” Jaskier mutters, and Geralt lets out a long sigh. The bard will just have to bare it then, if he insists on following Geralt on this hunt. They walk for another few minutes before coming upon the rocky cliffs and caves lining the sea. They trudge wordlessly into them, winding into the caves and pools of water. Eventually Geralt decides upon a place to wait for the sirens to show up. A cave edging into the water, where the sirens could swim up and Geralt could quickly dispatch them. He eyed Jaskier surreptitiously where he was stomping around on the rocks with a scowl on his face. 

Geralt had come up with a plan between the tavern and the coves, though he heavily doubted that Jaskier would agree to it. Geralt sighed before turning to fully face Jaskier. The bard lifted his head to stare at the witcher for a moment before his scowl deepened.

“No. No Geralt, I know that look. This is the part where you convince me to act as bait for whatever monstrous creature you're hunting, and then I almost die before you manage to kill the damned thing.” Jaskier is waving his arms around dramatically, pacing back and forth on the uneven rocks, though surprisingly he doesn't even stumble. Geralt cocks his head to the side and throws the bard a calculative look, which only manages to push the man further into hysterics.

“No, witcher. Not this time,” He yells. “How about you trudge into that freezing water and act as your own damned bait for once. See how much fun it is, huh?” Geralt just stares harder at Jaskier, turns his look a little pleading, and the man throws his hands up. “You know what Geralt? You know what? This is the last time. The last time Geralt!” And then the bard is moving towards the water, his muscles so tense it probably hurt. Geralt grabs the man’s shoulder as he passes, spinning the man to face him

“You won’t get hurt Jaskier, I promise.” Geralt says, gazing down into those blue eyes, which are practically glowing in the moonlight. “They’ll be dead before they even get a hand on you.” Jaskier looks up at him, then averts his gaze, staring down at the water splashing up onto the rocks, slowly soaking the bard’s expensive boots.

“We’ll see, witcher, we’ll see.” Jaskier mutters before jerking out of Geralt’s grip and moving to sit on the edge of the rocks, dangling his legs into the sea water below. He doesn’t even flinch as the freezing water soaks through his breeches, doesn’t even hesitate before pushing off the rocks and submerging himself up to the chest. He holds his arms above the water, scowling at Geralt in a way that says “You’ll be buying me a new outfit when this is over.” Geralt gives the bard a small smile, stepping to the edge of the rocks and kneeling down.

“They’ll show up soon with you in the water like this. I'll be just behind those rocks.” Geralt reassures him, giving him one last look before standing and moving to hide behind a wall of rocks. They stay silent for only a few minutes, Geralt kneeling with his sword in hand, his senses sharp and his body ready to spring into action. He can hear Jaskier breathing, can hear his heartbeat hammering away in his chest, can smell dread emanating from the bard in waves. Eventually he hears the man’s arms splash down into the water, the bard letting out a long groan.

“You know, actually, I think I’ve changed my mind. This water is quite cold and I think I would much prefer to be at the inn with a warm bed and---- Oh fuck-” Geralt springs out from behind the rocks, sword at the ready, and watches as Jaskier’s head disappears under the water with a large splash. In moment’s the witcher has jumped bodily into the water, reaching around where he can see a flash of inky black scales and the tuft of Jaskier’s hair through the splash of water.  
He gets a hold on the man’s doublet, wrenching him away from the sirens and throwing him bodily up out of the water and onto the rocks. He hears the man panting and scrambling away from the water as he takes a swing at a flash of movement. He feels it connect and watches as an inky cloud of red spreads through the water, but before he can get another hit in, the thing dashes away with a splash.

Geralt stares out into the water, searching for any signs of movement. He takes a step forward, starting as three heads pop out of the water some yards away. They have the faces of impossibly beautiful women, their long hair spreading out around their shoulders, and their skin pale and sparkling in the moonlight. Behind him Jaskier has gotten to his feet and is grabbing at Geralt from the rocks.

“Geralt, I think it’s time for us to go.” The bard yells, his voice laced with panic. “Preferably now.” The witcher ignores him, moving farther into the water with his sword raised. The plan hadn’t exactly gone according to plan, but that didn’t mean Geralt didn’t intend on finishing the job.

“You should listen to him, witcher.” One of the sirens calls out in a melodious sing song voice. Geralt glares at it, slinking forward into the frigid water. 

“Geralt.” Jaskier warns, but Geralt keeps moving, the water now up to his shoulders.

“I would take his advice witcher,” Another of the sirens calls, her voice weaving through the air like a warm breeze. “He knows what he’s talking about, don’t you Julien?” The siren giggles, and the other two follow suit. Geralt stares, confusion slowly wrapping around him.

“Geralt for the love of all things good and holy, please get out of the water and leave with me.” Jaskier begs. When Geralt tips his head around to look at the bard, he sees the small man lowering himself back into the water with a splash and moving towards him.

“Get out of here Jaskier!” Geralt growls, but the bard has already got his hands wrapped around the silver haired man’s arm and is doing his best to drag him back towards the rocks. The sirens erupt into raucous laughter, making Geralt whip his head back toward them.

“Julien, your pet witcher is a funny little thing.” One of the sirens says, suddenly much too close for Geralt's comfort, and he raises his sword defensively, still trying to shake Jaskier off of his arm. Behind him he hears Jaskier growl, sending chills up the witcher’s spine and making the larger man freeze.

“He’s not my pet witcher, Arya, and I would appreciate it greatly if you would kindly fuck off.” Jaskier hisses, his voice exploding around them like thunder, and he gives Geralt’s arm another yank. The witcher whips his head back and forth between Jaskier and the giggling sirens, confusion swirling around in his head like a storm.

“How do you know-” He turns to ask Jaskier, but the bard cuts him off to yell at the group of sirens with venom dripping from his voice.

“I beat your ass once Arya, and I’ll gladly do it again if you don’t fuck off right now.” Geralt let’s the smaller man haul him back to the rocks, let’s the bard shove at him until he climbs out of the water. Jaskier hauls himself onto the ledge, flips his wet hair out of his eyes and starts shoving at the witcher once again.

“Go go go go,” The bard chants, pushing on Geralt’s back as he turns to look out at the siren’s where they float in the water, their laughter trailing after them.

“Have fun with your witcher, brother!” One of them shouts, making Jaskier push even harder. He pushes Geralt until they’re back on the beach before moving to grab the larger man’s hand and pull him through the sand and back towards the town. They walk in silence all the way back to the inn,and all the way up to their room where Jaskier slams the door behind him and puts his back up against it. Geralt moves further into the room, turning to stare at the bard. Jaskier is shaking, soaked from head to toe, the expensive silk of his doublet clinging to his frame and his hair plasterer to his forehead. He stares back at Geralt with those impossibly blue eyes, wide and scared. Geralt can smell it on him, the fear. The smaller man reeks of it. Geralt moves instinctively toward the bard, not sure what he plans on doing, but wanting to comfort him.

He freezes when Jaskier flinches, pushing himself further back into the door. The bard’s eyes dart around the room, finally settling on his pack and lute resting on one of the beds. His eyes flash back up to meet Geralt’s, and he slowly puts his hands up.

“I’m just going to move to the bed,” He whispers, tensely moving away from the door, giving Geralt a wide berth as he steps slowly to the bed. Geralt turns with him, watching as the wet man quickly grabs his things and holds them to his heaving chest. “I’m going to leave now. You won't have to deal with me.” Jaskier says quietly, moving back around Geralt and to the door.

Geralt reaches out, freezing when Jaskier flinches and the shaking man’s hand flies to the door handle. Geralt can’t think, his mind swirling around with adrenaline and confusion, can’t get a grasp on this new revelation. He says nothing as Jaskier slowly turns the handle and opens the door. He watches as the brunette slips through it, wants to say “wait” or “don’t go” but his lips stay frozen as the door closes quietly behind Jaskier. He stares at the wood for a moment, his brain spinning in circles.

“Fuck.”


	2. Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geralt is doing his best send post

Geralt sits in their- his, now, Geralt thinks begrudgingly- room for a long time just thinking. Honestly he should have seen this coming. All the signs had been there, he had seen them. But like the idiot he is, he had decided to brush them off and ignore them. Geralt wonders if maybe this situation would have played out differently had he brought it up earlier, had faced his questions and curiosity instead of tucking them away.

Of course none of that matters now. Jaskier was probably long gone, two towns over atleast, and Geralt would never get a chance to let the man know that he would never hurt him, would never think differently of him for being inhuman. He gets up and paces the room. The bard had always been a pain in the ass. Too loud, too flamboyant, too much. Geralt had told him to leave more times than he could count, had prayed that someday fate would take the obnoxious man off his hands and finally give him some peace.

So why, now, was his chest so tight and empty? Why did he already miss the bard’s incessant chatter and singing? Why was he two seconds from going out and chasing the damn man down to make things right? Geralt came to a sudden stop in the middle of the room, his eyes darting over to the door. In a split second he was gathering up all his things and practically sprinting out of the room and down the stairs. He rounded the building and rushed into the stables, deft hands untying Roach and urging her forward.

He didn’t know where Jaskier had gone. Didn’t know if the bard had already left town or just got a room in a different inn. Geralt mounted Roach, urging her into a faster pace, and began making his way through the streets of the town. He goes to every inn, asks after Jaskier in every tavern and brothel. No one had even seen the brunette, most didn’t have a single idea who he was talking about. Just as things began to feel hopeless and Geralt was slowly submitting to the idea that he had fucked things up beyond repair, he turned to stare out at the ocean in disdain, watching the waves crash over the white sand. How had things managed to spiral so entirely out of control in the span of less than an hour. Jaskier was long gone, had made his hasty retreat away from the witcher and Geralt would have to live with the fact that the last thing the bard had felt towards him was fear.

The realization hits him like a sucker punch, the sea sparkling in the moonlight, the surf soft and pearly white. Geralt immediately wonders why he had even looked anywhere else. Jaskier had always loved the sea. He made an effort to go sit on the beach and wade the shallows at any coastal town they passed through. It had seemed like an innocent diversion at the time, but now it made so much sense it hurt. Geralt ties Roach to a tree, giving her head a pat and takes off down to the beach.

He walks across the entirety of it without seeing a sign of Jaskier anywhere, begins to think that maybe he had been wrong and the bard was already miles away like he originally thought. As he neared the rocky coves though, he was once again filled with hope, the rocks glistening with the salty ocean spray. He walked carefully into the caves, listening for signs of the bard. He wound his way through the alcoves and pools, his inhuman hearing on high alert. As he neared the area that they had gone to hunt the sirens, he heard the faintest voice. He moved toward it, and when he identified it as Jaskier’s he couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face. He quickly moved to get closer, but stopped when he heard a voice that was clearly not the bard’s.

“You can’t blame all of your problems on us Julien, you’re the one that wanted to be human so badly. You can’t honestly be surprised that it didn’t work out.” The voice was obviously feminine, light and melodious in the same way as Jaskier’s. A siren then.

“She’s right brother, you left us and joined the humans so you could experience their world. You said you wanted to travel, to become a human bard and use your voice for good. You've always been so pretentious about it. What does this witcher have to do with any of that? He was probably just getting in your way.” The siren sniffed, her voice haughty and disdainful. Geralt snarled at that, edging closer to the voices.

“It would have been fine if you three hadn’t fucked it all up!” It was Jaskier speaking now, his voice angry and distraught. “He was different. He was interesting and wonderful Lillia, he took me on adventures and showed me the world!” Geralt paused, a feeling of warmth blooming in his stomach. He knew the bard obviously enjoyed traveling with him, the man had said as much on multiple accounts. Geralt had always pushed him away, refuting the idea that they were ‘friends’. He had treated Jaskier horribly, and yet the bard had stuck by him for all these years.

“He would kill you if he caught you again Julien, you know that as well as I. He’s a witcher, it’s what they do.”

“Come home with us Julien, you must have gotten your fill of these silly humans by now. I'm sure whatever magick that witch used is easily undone.” At that, Geralt scowled and rounded the rocks, rushing into the alcove, where he found Jaskier sitting with his legs in the water, the three sirens circling him. One of them had her head in the man’s lap where he had been braiding her long hair, his fingers frozen as he turned. At his intrusion, all three of the siren’s heads whipped up to look at him. The sirens immediately moved back, the one laying on Jaskier managing to drag the bard with her. Jaskier falls into the water with a large splash and Geralt rushed to the edge of the water.

“Jaskier.” He yelled, though he wasn’t sure what he had been planning to say. One of the sirens bares her sharp teeth at him, hissing defensively. Geralt put his hands up, taking a small step backwards. “I’m not going to hurt him.” He calls, and the sirens give him disbelieving looks, moving farther out into the water. Jaskier was wrapped in one of their long arms, his eyes huge and blue as ever as he stared at Geralt in disbelief.

“You can’t have him witcher!” One of the sirens yelled, baring her teeth at him. “You’ll just kill him like you planned on killing us.” she spat, and Geralt opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure what to say. He had, in fact, planned on killing the sirens. There was really no way to lie about that, the wound on one of them baring the proof of his intentions. Jaskier disentangled himself from his sister’s arms, much to her chagrin, staring at Geralt in a mix of awe and fear. It made the witchers heart clench uncomfortably. He never wanted the bard to fear him, had revelled in the fact that unlike other humans, Jaskier had never stunk of fear around him. He was afraid now, the scent washing over Geralt like poison.

“I was wrong.” Geralt yells back. “I would never hurt you Jaskier. You don’t have to leave, I won’t hurt you.” He pleads, watches as Jaskier moves slowly away from his sisters, their arms reaching out for him: but he brushes them away. The bard slowly moves closer to the ledge where Geralt stood, stopping a few yards away and staring up at the witcher with those damned eyes.

“You’re a witcher,” He whispers, his eyes starting to grow wet and shiny. “You kill monsters. It’s your job.” The bard sounds so broken as he says it, sorrowful and utterly destroyed. Geralt didn’t know what to say, would tell the bard anything in that moment to get that frown off his face, to unpinch those brows.

“Yes. I kill monsters,” Geralt swallows, slowly kneeling down on the damp rocks. Jaskier’s eyes fall and he turns to move away before Geralt stops him. “I kill monsters, Jaskier. You are no monster.” Jaskier gazed imploringly up at him, Geralt’s heart swelling with something tight and uncomfortable. “Now will you get out of the fucking water so we can talk about this without those three glaring at me like they want me dead?” He jerked his head to the sirens staring at them from the water.

“We do want you dead.” One of them called out, the other two erupting in giggles. Geralt let out a drawn out groan and Jaskier turned to give them a look that silenced them immediately. Then he was turning back to Geralt and wading towards him through the water. Geralt watches as the bard hoists himself up onto the rocks with impressive strength, stepping back to give the man room to stand up. Jaskier straightened out in front of him, pushing damp locks of hair out of his eyes, turning his face up to nervously look at Geralt. He was still tense, his body language defensive and his eyes flickering from Geralt’s face to the swords on his back. Geralt could still smell fear emanating from the bard and cursed himself mentally for even bringing the damn things.

He put his hands up, slowly stepping away and reaching back for his weapons. Jaskier stepped back, a fresh wave of panic washing away from him in waves. Geralt lifted his other hand in a calming gesture, slowly removing his silver sword and tossing it to the rocks a few feet away. He repeated the process with his steel, watching as some of the tenseness melted from Jaskier’s shoulders, the bard’s eyes coming to rest on Geralt’s face, open and questioning.

“I had suspicions,” Geralt says calmly, “There was always something about you, but I ignored it. You’re not a monster Jaskier. You’re my…” The witcher’s throat tightened uncomfortably, the word catching in his throat like an animal trying desperately to escape. He swallowed, closing his eyes momentarily before opening them again and fixing Jaskier with a meaningful look.

“Friend.” Geralt finishes lamely, his hands falling limply to his sides. Jaskier stared at him, his eyes growing wetter and wetter until a tear slipped from his eye and streaked its way down the man’s already damp face. Geralt moved forward immediately, panic swelling in his throat. “I didn’t mean to… upset you Jaskier, I-” He fumbled, trying to fix whatever had gone wrong.

A strangled sound escaped from the bard’s lips and Geralt’s face screwed up in concern. He made the sound again, the witcher’s hands moving instinctively to grab the other’s shoulders, but then the sounds melted into a wet laugh, bubbling it’s way out of the bard’s throat . Geralt’s eyebrows shot up in confusion, and then Jaskier was pressing himself into the witcher’s chest, laughter spilling from him, growing louder and more strangled. Slowly, Geralt moved to awkwardly wrap his arms around the smaller man, resting his chin gently on the top of the other man’s head where his face was still pressed into the witcher’s armor. He glanced over the bard, his eyes finding the three sirens still floating at the mouth of the cave, unimpressed looks on their faces. One of them rolled her eyes, and Geralt shot her a glare.

“What are we gonna do about the fishermen?” Geralt mentioned awkwardly in a quiet voice, still eyeing the sirens. Jaskier pressed his forehead harder into the witcher’s armor before sighing and spinning to look out at his sisters.

“Get the fuck out of here and find a new bay to terrorize, or i’ll have my pet wicher jump in there and end the family bloodline.” Jaskier shouts, folding his arms across his chest and sticking a hip out. Geralt was barely able to contain his snort.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too worried about the family bloodline Julien, it looks like you and the witcher have it figured out.” One of the women yells back, throwing in an obnoxious wink before all three of them erupted in rowdy laughter. Jaskier sputtered, whipping around to give Geralt an apologetic look, a blush spreading quickly from the high points of his cheeks. Geralt had nothing to say, just gave the bard a small, awkward smile and shrugged. Jaskier glared at him before he spun back around, stepping closer to the edge of the rocks as the three sirens turned and began making their retreat.

“This is why mom doesn’t FUCKING love you!” Jaskier screamed indignantly, though Geralt doubted the sirens had even heard him. Jaskier stared out at the sea for a long moment, watching the siren’s splashing push further and further out, before turning on his heel to face the taller man. 

“Well, looks like we’ve got that sorted out.” Jaskier chimed smugly, a tentative smile pulling at the corners of his lips. Geralt hummed quietly. “That bath sounds good right about now.” Jaskier quipped, putting a single hand on his hip and smirking at Geralt. Geralt hummed again.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont know where to go from here but i guess ill figure it out along the way ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Author's Note:**

> Geralt is so emotionally constipated somebody get this man some laxatives


End file.
